


Even in closed systems water circulates

by AnnabelleRowan



Category: K (Anime), K Project, [K]
Genre: Angst, Anime, BL, Feelings, M/M, Mikorei - Freeform, all the feels really I'm so never over this, it's not like I know to write anything else sorry, spoilers for the whole season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnabelleRowan/pseuds/AnnabelleRowan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reishi is broken. Munakata grieves. The Blue King moves on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even in closed systems water circulates

**Author's Note:**

> To Tena. Because she ruined my life. I hate you. :*

Munakata Reishi stares at the glass.

“Oh, sorry sir, if the other gentleman.. I just assumed..” the waiter trails of nervously, his hand grabbing the second glass on reflex.

“No, he’s.. I..” Reishi tries, but can’t say the word.

Munakata Reishi is lost for words. Mikoto would pay to see such a sight.

Except that’s it. Mikoto won’t. Because Mikoto is _dead_. Reishi _murdered_ him.

Maybe he can’t say the words out loud, but he knows them well enough.

“He’s not here tonight. But leave the glass.” He manages in the end.

 _He’s not here tonight._ The waiter will probably think he travelled somewhere. Or more probably that they had a fight. Stupid lover’s spat. If only. There are unspeakable things Reishi would do to change the reason of Mikoto’s absence from dead to just cross with him. Unspeakable.

He realises this was a mistake. He never should’ve come here. He thought.. This place was always a happy place in his thoughts. Safe place.  
Their place.

They met here one night on accident, Mikoto being brought to sit next to him by the very same waiter that brought that damn second glass. Since, they’ve become regulars and didn’t even have to order anymore, the drinks would just come, more than once on the house bill.

And of course the waiter would presume the reason of Mikoto’s absence was a lover’s spat. They were lovers here. Not the Red and the Blue King. Not even Munakata and Suoh. They were just Reishi and Mikoto, young boys with taste for good alcohol who preferred privacy of the booth in the corner of the bar.

Who had more than once had to peal themselves of one another just seconds before waiter came to take their orders. Whose legs were always intertwined beneath the table. Who left hand in hand and shared a taxi, giving out just one address.

Mikoto abruptly gets up, sending the glasses to the floor in the process, and almost runs for the door. The waiter shouts in surprise but doesn’t try to stop him. Regular’s privileges.

Except Reishi now knows he will never come back to this bar. It’s too much.

Once he’s on the street he starts walking in the usual direction, towards his apartment, but stops once he remembers that the very reason he came to the bar was to get out of the apartment.

The bar may have been full of memories, but his apartment is worse.

He can still hear Mikoto there. Almost see him.

Rustling through his fridge to find something to eat. Snoring on his couch in the afternoon, bathed in reddish light from one of the windows in the living room, waiting for Reishi to come back from work. Moaning in his pillow early in the morning when he tried to make Reishi stay just a little more.

If only he had stayed.

There are too many ‘if only’ in their story, Reishi realises, the biggest one being ‘if only they weren’t the Red and the Blue king’.

But behind every ‘if only’ stands ‘but then you would never’ because they wouldn’t have – if only they weren’t Red and Blue king they would’ve never met.

Reishi would probably have become a professor or a doctor or a lawyer – something that would have made his parents proud, and Mikoto would have probably worked for his father’s company or have run away to his grandma and grandpa’s old house in the countryside.

Maybe they wouldn’t even be attracted to each other if they weren’t kings, Reishi thinks, but then he remembers how Mikoto traced his tattooed skin with slow kisses and bends his head down in shame.

He was always the one to doubt. Mikoto trusted him even with his own death.

Blue aura is not angry like the red one is, but Reishi suddenly feels it overwhelming him. The whole street goes dark as the street lamps explode, one by one, like falling dominos.

“You stole my life.” Reishi whispers “You painted it red and together we made it violet.”

 

“It’s fascinating.” Mikoto said one evening when Reishi had caught him staring at him instead of watching the film.

“What is?” he asked while he moved to face the red head boy, locking his arms around his waist.

“The colour of your irises.” Mikoto answered and cupped his face with both of his palms.

“Oh.” Reishi offered because it was the best he could manage while being like this, under Mikoto’s full attention.

The man who kept in the shadows was suddenly under reflectors. Under the blazing sun.

Mikoto brought their faces closer and kissed him.

It was almost funny to see how their roles changed when they were together like this.

One would expect from Mikoto to behave like his element – to consume everything in hurry and heat, to burn and leave nothing behind, but what happened was the exact opposite.

If anything, Reishi was the one who overdid everything – he bit down to hard, he slammed Mikoto up the walls, drew blood from their kisses, asked Mikoto to fuck him while he still wasn’t ready and then screamed when he came.

He was like a broken dam, taking down everything that came his way, flooding houses and drowning people.

Fire can make the water boil, but water will always take out the fire.

And Mikoto’s fire was what kept them warm in long nights. His soothing hands and tender kisses, expeditions he took to map Reishi’s skin, hours where the only sounds were their beating hearts and quiet moans. The way he smiled when he thought Reishi couldn’t see him.

But if one match can start a fire, imagine what happens when the Red King decides to burn.

Reishi hates the Colourless King, but he never fell asleep on Colourless King’s chest.

He knows that’s not logical, he knows his whole life philosophy makes no sense when it comes to Mikoto Suoh, but the trick is not in the mirrors, it’s in the fact that Reishi is what he heard his subordinates call him sometimes – a man behind a smile. Man of too many words. Man with good manners in fine clothes.

Clothes that hide tattooed skin. Manners that hide recklessness. Words that hide what he really wants to say. Smile that’s never a true one.

Munakata Reishi stares at his hand in the dark street. Even in closed systems water circulates.

He looks up and continues walking.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote it on the very first day of this brand new year. But it took me a month to post it. B you're a bad influence,  
> but also a wonderful beta and I can never thank you enough :)  
> Also sorry if this seems oc, I'm new in this fandom and I have like a thousand headcanons for my boys so.. yeah, hope you liked it anyway.


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